


Faith in Her

by dreamsandlove



Series: Frenchie/Kimiko [2]
Category: The Boys (TV 2019)
Genre: 02x05, Angst and Feels, Coda, Confrontations, Crying, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual sweetness and understanding, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I’m a HEA shipper, Longing, Lost - Freeform, Love, Pining, Regret, Sadness, Slight Comfort, and, crying in the rain, if you squint at the end, regardless of canon, there will be, within this fic series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:40:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26558281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsandlove/pseuds/dreamsandlove
Summary: Kimiko’s becoming dangerous and Frenchie feels beaten down.  [Coda: s2 ep5]
Relationships: Frenchie - Relationship, Kimiko - Relationship, The Female | Kimiko & The Frenchman, The Female | Kimiko/The Frenchman, The Frenchman - Relationship, the female| Kimiko
Series: Frenchie/Kimiko [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931500
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	Faith in Her

**Author's Note:**

> I’m having another go at writing. I’ve been off of writing for some time, so here’s hoping the content and quality (to include the French!) gets better. 🤞 [I do sincerely apologize to any fluent or native French speakers. Try not to cringe too much...😬) 
> 
> ****EDIT: Some corrections have been made. I will eventually fix most of them. Hang in there with me****  
>  Not betaed. All mistakes are my own.  
> 
> 
> More coda (s2 ep5)?! It’s never been my thing, but The Boys! Too much to resist. Lol. No promises either way. It comes as a surprise to me too!!! 😂
> 
> I created a Frenchie/Kimiko (The Boys) fic series, this is #2.
> 
> Coda 02x05
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! 💗

_Merde!_

He’s pissed, _really_ fucking pissed. 

Frenchie has been wandering around downtown like a shell of a man for hours, trying to lose himself in a maze of concrete and the crush of the masses. Careless for his safety, and indifferent to the passersby around him. 

_Comment a-t-elle pu me faire ca [How could she do that to me]?! Push me away!!_

_Encore une fois [Again]..._

As he meanders along the streets, Frenchie’s ire quickly burns out, turning inward, once again becoming sadness...heartbreak...agony. Kimiko means everything to him, _everything._ The idea that Cherie has helped her become an assassin, a hired gun (so to speak), makes his stomach roil.   
  


Unstoppable, lethal, turned into a weapon to be pointed and aimed. Rendering flesh from bone, like a beast, Kimiko is a murderer for criminals, and Frenchie wants to scream with the injustice of it all. 

_She’s too good for that!_

A light rain starts to mist. 

_Ca chiffres putain [It fucking figures]._

Stepping into an alley he leans against the side of a building, the cold brick digging into the muscles of his back. 

Clutching his temples he bows his head. 

_Kimiko! Kimiko! Kimiko!_

His mind is mired by the loss of her, thoughts jumbled, heart mangled. 

Sliding down the wall, he sits, elbows against knees, hands still holding his throbbing head. 

Sighing, he reflects on how he’s been following Kimiko, shadowing her, trying to keep her safe all while ascertaining what’s going on in that incredible brain of hers. Frenchie’s fairly certain she knew he was nearby the entire time, but obviously uninterested in his plans or intent. Only focused on her aims, whatever they were. 

Holding his head tighter, Frenchie remembers the fear and pain of waking up without her, her side of the pallet empty. The realization she’d fled, left him, and the intensity of adrenaline that flooded his body. He’d been frantic, initially running out into the street with no shoes, calling out her name. After ten minutes of searching near their safe house, he’d gone back inside. Hastily stuffing his feet into shoes, he grabbed the essentials (keys, cellphone, wallet), and got to work. 

Frenchie is nothing if not resourceful. Using his tech skills, he’d easily tracked her by hacking the CC security system set up around the city. She wasn’t trying to conceal herself, not once bothering to dodge the cameras—perhaps oblivious to the threat?—so he’d found her within hours. Kimiko stopped into random shops here and there, never staying long, and by the time he’d caught up to her she was headed into a known organized crime establishment. 

What he saw when he walked into the bar (after she left) horrified him. Not by the scene, not by the gore, but by the fact that Kimiko was without a doubt a one woman hit squad. 

_Merde!_

When he walked into the church, saw fucking Cherie, and watched Kimiko accept her payment and take the next job his heart twisted. 

_Mon coeur! No!_

_She’s better than that...better than all of us! There’s so much more to her!_

He’d been sick with the thought of Kimiko being used by anyone. 

Then, after seeing her tears… 

**“...I know the rage you feel...but this is not the way...this is poison to your soul…I know...come with me mon coeur...”**

And their disastrous confrontation…

**“I don’t** **_understand_ ** **what you’re saying because you won’t teach me!”**

Heaving, torn, looking between Kimiko and Cherie, he’d felt utterly useless.

**“Fuck** **_you_** **. Fuck** **_this_** **. Go be a** **_monster_** **!”**

Frenchie’s hope immediately dwindled, leaching away from his body with each step, storming from the church. 

So now, achy and shaken, wet-cold seeping past his jacket and into his core, Frenchie begins to cry... _for her_...always for her. 

He’s lost Kimiko, truly failed her. He can’t communicate with her, he’s yelled at her, abandoned her (though she’d made it clear he wasn’t wanted), and given up on her.

_Weak! A coward! Not strong enough to be who she needs._

The emotions overwhelm him, feeling small, like a child, he hopes to be absorbed into the ether. To disappear, to cease to exist, and all because a beguiling woman, who likely despises him, has shifted his world off its axis. In the short time he’s known her, all of his truthshave been altered. 

Kimiko has changed Frenchie, just by her presence. It makes no sense to him, makes even less sense to deny it, so he doesn’t. He just cries, the juxtaposition of his hot tears mixed with the cool rain causes his body to shiver. 

He’s lost track of time, no telling how long he’s lingered in the wetness, trapped by his desperation and his complete defeat. 

Nor does Frenchie care, because without Kimiko, he’s nothing...a wanderer. No compass, no North Star, no reason to return to the life he’s always lived. Frenchie isn’t sure he could go back to his old life—even if he wanted to, not that he does... _not without her_ —but he’s got no idea how to move forward either. 

Rudderless, lost in a storm. Battered at sea. A sinking vessel. 

In his grief, Frenchie is sure he’s losing touch with reality—possibly hallucinating—because, without lifting his head, he senses _she’s_ near. 

_She’s not here, asshole!! She fucking hates you! Not worthy! Do not look at the illusion...it-it will break you!_

Not moving, he squints his eyes even tighter, shuddering (from fear?), his imagination continuing to torture him. His fucked up mind tricking him into believing Kimiko’s kneeling in front of him, her warm hand resting on his shoulder, nearly scorching him through the soaked material. 

“Go away! You’re not real!” 

He pleas repeatedly, as the phantom hand clenches onto him more tightly. 

“No, no! I-I can’t!” 

He sobs, voice strained.

“I can’t. I’m not strong enough.”

The hand on his shoulder squeezes harder, _harder_ than his brain could conjure. His breath catches. If he looks up and it’s not Kimiko he will strangle whoever is in front of him, including Cherie (though he knows she’s done nothing wrong, just needing someone else to feel his pain). 

Eyes still closed he lifts his head, the rain tracking down his cheeks, tiny warm puffs of breath ghosting over his cheeks. Regardless of the smell of ozone mixing with the stench of wet city concrete, he distinguishes her scent. 

_Kimiko._

Blinking, he slowly opens his eyes, vision blurred, he sees Kimiko crouched in front of him. She’s drenched, hair hanging in her face, but her gaze is unwavering. Her eyes _seeing_ him—maybe searching for something?—and never look away. 

Taking a stuttered breath he gazes back at her. Filed with confusion and grief (and a tiny glimmer of hope too), Frenchie stays silent, stock still, staring at the exceptional woman before him. 

He has no clue how long they stay like that, akin to twin statutes, except for her grip on his shoulder, sitting in the rain and merely sharing space. 

Eventually, Kimiko releases him and stands. Frenchie sits there until her eyes appear to bore into him. Slowly, back dragging against brick, he pushes himself up to stand. Once he’s on his feet she turns and strides away. 

His mind is whirring, but before Frenchie has time to untangle any thoughts, she stops walking, about mid-block from where he’s standing frozen in place. Kimiko quickly flicks a small gaze over her shoulder and it startles him. 

_Is s-she waiting for me? Mon coeur? Moi?_

Tentatively, pushing off the wall, legs aching from disuse, he falls in line behind her. Once he’s about ten paces from where she stands she faces forward and continues walking. 

Sighing to himself, feeling relieved and flipped upside down, Frenchie keeps his distance, trailing after her, a shadow, never leaving... 

  
Clueless as to what’s going on, just knowing that... _wherever she goes I must go_. 

_Foi [Faith]. Faith in her.  
  
_

His purpose. His reason. His will. His heart. 

_Kimiko.  
_

~~  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
~~

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 💗
> 
> Please feel free to leave feedback or make a request/suggestion. 😊


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